


Buy the Stars

by sweetlolixo



Series: The Moment I Knew [2]
Category: the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe - Band Life, M/M, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 01:39:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7200242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlolixo/pseuds/sweetlolixo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every night, Aoi crawls into bed, counting the number of stars in the sky to help him sleep to the painful silence, watching as the stars faded one, by one, even while sleeping by the one he loved the most. When Uruha doesn't turn up on his birthday, the raven breaks, and he leaves the blond with one last message: 0. You could buy up all the stars, but it wouldn't change who you are. <em>You're still living life in the dark, it's just who you are.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Buy the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Fic originally posted onto LiveJournal [here](http://sweetlolixo.livejournal.com/173625.html) on Feb 17, 2013.
> 
> Inspired by Marina & the Diamonds' song.

_0._  
  
That was the number Aoi had carved against the wood of the bedframe; that was the number the raven had left the blond with, before disappearing the next day, never to come back. Uruha hadn't seen the raven ever since then; hadn't felt the hesitant, lingering touch of Aoi's against his skin deep into the night. Uruha knows Aoi always thought the blond would have been fast asleep by then; but no, he felt every, _single_ , little thing. He had felt the caressing of his palm, then Aoi's hands pulling back a second after, insecure and cautious in his movements. He had felt the raven carve numbers into the skin of his hands, had heard the soft sighs and whispers in the silence of the night. Uruha hadn't understood why the raven carved certain numbers against the blond's skin at first; couldn't make sense of the random, bizzare numbers that appeared day after day, night after night – 10, 14, 3, 23 – but it all made sense one day when he heard Aoi's small, tired voice counting them one by one out loud.  
  
He counted the stars. Every day, every night, each time before he went to sleep. Aoi couldn't sleep at night, so he'd always waited for the blond to fall asleep, before moving closer to him, gazing out of the window at the same time. One star, two star, _three_ star... Uruha hadn't realised it then, but he realised now maybe they were the only things keeping the hope alive inside of the raven, that maybe things could work out right one day. That maybe each star represented a spark, a fire, a chance and opportunity for things to be well once more. Maybe Aoi had fallen in love with the stars, because the man lying beside him couldn't love him the way he wanted anymore. Maybe in the darkness of the night, lying next to the blond's cold, icy heart, Aoi needed something warm and alive to remind him of the people they both used to be. And every night, the raven carved the numbers into Uruha's palm, hoping the hope the stars gave him could pass on to the blond, hoping the blond would have a change of heart one day.  
  
The night Uruha had missed Aoi's birthday, the blond had came home, wondering why it seemed so un-naturally silent. He had pushed the bedroom door open, watching as the neatly made up bed came into view, and the side table next to it completely empty. Uruha hadn't felt anything at first; he walked to the closet, sliding it open, watching as half of the hangers proved empty, and the gifts that the blond had given to Aoi before lay motionless at the bottom; clothes, and cologne, and jewelry. Aoi loved those jewelry, but he hadn't taken them with him. Even if Uruha had given them to him for their first anniversary. Even if...  
  
Uruha had slid the closet door back close, feeling his heart beginning to pick up speed as the realisation started to sink into him. Aoi had left him without a single word. Nor a single message, nor call, nor letter. Aoi was gone. Uruha ran his fingers through his hair, cold sweat beginning to break out, his exasperation beginning to get the better of him. He hadn't felt this type of anxiousness in a _long_ time; hadn't felt it ever since he grew cold and detached from everything around him. Maybe he had always been this way; maybe the blond just wasn't naturally affectionate and loving, maybe it cost him energy and time that he had no strength to waste on them anymore; and maybe he had forgotten to laugh at Aoi's jokes, and maybe he had forgotten to give the raven his usual goodnight kiss. But maybe Uruha hadn't meant any of that, and he hadn't meant to drive the raven away from him.  
  
The blond won't cry, _no_ , he can't. He's too self-indulgent, too selfish, too narcissistic to even consider crying over a broken relationship that would have been mainly his fault. He wasn't used to mourning over his own mistakes; he wouldn't dare allow himself to do. But as he walks around the empty bed and sinks down against Aoi's side of the mattress, he takes a deep breath of the raven's lingering scent, still fresh and strong from a couple of hours ago. Then his fingers trace past the wood by the side of the bedframe, realising Aoi had left him one last message afterall.  
  
_0._  
  
Aoi had counted the stars tonight, one last final time. _0_. Uruha hadn't been there to lend his palm, but it looks like his presence was no longer needed, anyway. Or was it? The blond's breathing staggers, trying to swallow down his tears. Was he crying? _No_ , that was ridiculous. Uruha was far too mature for that; unlike Aoi, who proved too young for his age, who proved he had the mentality of a five year old and always needed to be pampered and loved and adored. And Uruha had grown too mature for him; Uruha couldn't give him any of those. But then the blond tries to picture his raven lover sitting in this bed, at this exact same spot, counting the number of stars left in the sky.  
  
And there had been none.  
  
Uruha's fingers trace over the number carved into the wood over and over again, feeling the sobs take over him uncontrollably. He would give Aoi all the stars he needed if he could. He didn't want the raven to leave him, to be left with not even a single ounce of hope in his heart. It had been Uruha's fault tonight, but he had been _too_ scared to confront Aoi, even after all that's happened between them, and he hadn't meant to skip the birthday party – but he didn't feel his existence appropriate, in Aoi's life, he didn't feel good enough for the raven anymore. And he wanted to tell Aoi so many things, and he wanted to buy his favourite jewelry for him again, and he wanted to tell Aoi he needn't count the stars, when he had Uruha beside him. That maybe Uruha could give him more than just stars, that maybe Uruha could try to give him all the things he wanted again, and then Aoi needn't depend on the sky for his happiness, he needn't wait for a miracle – or _something_ – to tell him he would be okay.  
  
And when the blond's vision clears from the tears and he lifts his head up to gaze out of the window, he realises the empty sky has suddenly lit up once more, showing just one lone star, waiting in the vast darkness. But it's sparkling, and it's shining, and it looks more beautiful than any of the other stars he had ever seen. But it's alone, and the darkness is prevailing, and it threatens to swallow that one last hope up.  
  
Uruha brings a finger to the wood, then painfully carves another number against it, making sure it wasn't just 0 anymore. No, there _was_ some hope left. And Aoi could have seen it, if he had waited. If he'd waited for Uruha. But the blond was being selfish again, because he knows Aoi had waited for so long. It doesn't matter, though. It doesn't matter now, because Uruha's found the hope Aoi had missed. The hope that Aoi had been trying to pass on to the blond all these while; it hadn't worked till now. Even if it's just...  
  
_1._  
  
~  
  
Aoi lays his head against the window, easing his eyes shut as the sounds of the train moving along the railway track floated into his ears. It's early morning and the sun is only beginning to rise up, and Aoi seems like the only passenger in this train with no destination to go to. Everyone's indulged with their family or lover, and only Aoi sits by his own side, quietly, tracing numbers over and over again against the glass frame of his window. Aoi has his small luggage with him, and he had brought along everything he owned – things that had once been Uruha's, or had been given by him, were all left behind – and the raven only realises now that he really does have quite little items on his own. He hadn't realised how much Uruha had given to him, and maybe he had been too blinded by the blond's distant personality to see the blond's love for him from before. But then again, maybe this was just self-comfort; Aoi laughs bitterly to himself. He had planned and tried and tried and _tried_ and nothing had ever worked, and he guesses Uruha must finally feel free now, free from Aoi's grasp, free from Aoi's annoying, nonsensical, immature kid personality he had, and the needy love he harboured for the blond.  
  
_Uruha_... His name, forever the name on Aoi's lips. Syllables that the raven couldn't shake off, a word that Aoi's heart would skip a beat at once mentioned. His ex-lover, as remote and indifferent like the obscure, dark sky that never offered the raven a second try. The way it had ripped all of the stars away from him; the way it had taken them, in a snap, in a second, the way it had stolen Aoi's hopes and dashed them and gave him nothing in return. Because Aoi hadn't ever been good enough, even if he had given everything for it. Even if he had begged and pleaded and cried himself to sleep. Maybe if someone could enlighten him on what to do, on the right things to say, and the wrong moves he had made. Maybe if he could have everything back as they were before; but then the raven wasn't sure if he was in love with his past, or the future, anymore. He wasn't sure if he was in love with something he could never get back, and he wasn't sure if he could recognise his lover now anymore.  
  
Aoi's had to endure multiple crying sessions on the way to the train station as he left Uruha's apartment; he had felt his heart break, at the mere realisation – or _acceptance_ – that Uruha didn't care about him, whole-heartedly and wholesomely, and that Aoi had just been deluding himself all these while. That he had been trying for nothing; but not anymore. By the time he'd spent an hour travelling in the train, his heart had hardened, and the tears had dried up. And suddenly he didn't mind having no stars anymore.  
  
So why is it that as his phone starts to vibrate in the pocket of his jeans, and he pulls it out with anticipated fear; that his heart still skips a beat when his eyes graze over his phone and reads Uruha's name off his lips; that he still loses his breath and his hands throb when he sees words he could only dream Uruha would tell him:  
  
_I'll buy you all the stars you need in the sky. Come back._  
  
U  
  
~  
  
Uruha can barely feel his fingers as they dance across the screen of his phone, hovering over letters to form words he wouldn't have said before, just to send a pleading message to the raven, just to try one last time. He knows he hasn't been trying, but maybe this could work, if he showed a change.  
  
He had fallen asleep against Aoi's side of the bed last night, still taking in the raven's scent, his favourite brand of cologne that Uruha always bought for him as a gift. Uruha had told the raven he loved it on him – the first time when they met – and Aoi hadn't stopped wearing it since, and Uruha had always bought it for him again if he noticed the raven was running out. Aoi loved to be perfect for the blond, and it wasn't like Uruha didn't notice; he liked the way the raven always thought of him, always sensitive to the blond's needs, but in the midst of claiming this perfection; Uruha had forgotten to do the same for Aoi. _No_ , Uruha had fucked his chances up, and he had grown into someone both of them couldn't recognise. He's amazed with the possibility that Aoi could have still loved him all these while, even as the blond retreated into the shell he'd grown used to all these years; the withdrawn, reserved, cold person he usually was. Maybe meeting Aoi had lit fire to his spark; but then Uruha had forgotten how to be human again afterwards, had taken things for granted and left the raven alone when all the raven needed was him.  
  
And Uruha had forgotten to show that he needed the raven, too.  
  
Maybe things had come to a point where the blond just didn't know how to fix things; but the blond doesn't think he ever got angry at Aoi for that. He was never mad at Aoi for the silence, or the hesitant touches, or the insecurity and the love Aoi showered upon him. Aoi must be _stupid_ , for staying with him all these while, even as Uruha became another person Aoi didn't fall in love with, and even as Uruha watched himself change, he couldn't do anything to stop it; couldn't do anything to help himself.  
  
So when he had woken up this morning alone in their bed, he had no one else to blame for this newfound loneliness.  
  
And the darkness that's long prevailed over him can't be shed so easily; but Aoi's the lone star, still sparkling, still alive, still igniting and burning brightly in Uruha's shadow, in Uruha's dying night sky. And maybe Uruha needs it, needs _Aoi_ , to fill up that hole in his own sky, to fill up the glaring pain and tired silence in the dark.  
  
When Aoi's name fills the screen of his phone, Uruha's nervous immediately, feeling his heart speed up in dread. He knows he's in no position to beg for forgiveness, but he wonders if Aoi's love for him could surpass all qualms the raven would hold for him. Yet as his eyes glance from word to word of the raven's text message to him, he feels his heart fall, his stomach churning in bitterness.  
  
_You could buy up all the stars, but it wouldn't change who you are._  
  
A  
  
~  
  
“One coffee, with extra sugar, please.”  
  
Aoi waits patiently by the counter of a café, humming lightly to himself as he watched the people pass him by. Everyone has a purpose today, and Aoi feels like it's the only thing he's lacking today. He doesn't understand why Uruha would type such a message to him – or would it _even_ be Uruha at all? The possibility of Reita lecturing his best friend and forcing him to chase Aoi back was too big – and Aoi doesn't understand why Uruha would start trying, _now_ , of all times; why Uruha would attempt once more, when Aoi's long given up, when Aoi's heart has been shattered to a million pieces. And the raven hadn't noticed that the blond knew of Aoi's habit of counting stars left in the sky; the raven hadn't realised the blond knew what ever he was doing. And thinking about it just made his heart leap; Uruha knew Aoi had carved numbers into his palm, night after night, wishing for a miracle to happen in the heart of the night. Wishing for something to shine bright in his life again; wishing for Uruha to tell him he loved him again.  
  
Uruha had _known_ , so why didn't he do anything...?  
  
Aoi's disheartened once more, overcome with thoughts of his lover playing with him. Did Uruha think this was just a game? Did Uruha think Aoi didn't mean any of his 'I love you's or his goodbye kisses or his efforts in trying to keep a dying relationship alive? Aoi waited, every, single, _day_ , and if Uruha couldn't see that, nor do anything about it, maybe Uruha never truly loved him at all.  
  
As he reaches for the coffee that's just been served to him, he remembers that Uruha likes his coffee black and dark, bitter and fresh. Uruha never appreciated the sugar, nor did he appreciate the sweetness Aoi ever tried to offer him. And strangely, it all makes sense now. The bitter man Aoi had fallen in love with just couldn't stand the sugar Aoi had always been trying to inject into his life; he couldn't stand the raven's ways anymore, couldn't stand having to put up with someone who counted stars at night and waited for a prince charming to whisk him off his feet. So it doesn't make sense now that Uruha's sending him a message once more...  
  
_This man-made dark sky of mine is flickering, flickering, dying out. I need a star... Won't you help me get it back?_  
  
U  
  
~  
  
He doesn't want to come back.  
  
Uruha sucks in a deep breath, re-reading Aoi's previous message over and over again. _You could buy up all the stars, but it wouldn't change who you are_. He can't stand how neutral the message sounds, and it's scaring him; has Aoi lost all his love for the blond already? He hadn't seen Aoi sound this bitter before, _this_ angry, as if he's given up, as if he's resigned to Uruha remaining the way he is. Uruha doesn't want Aoi to give up. He _can't_! He can't, when he's the only person Uruha wants, and the only person who's been holding on all these while. Aoi can't just give up on him like this, when all the blond needed was him now, and all the blond wanted to feel was him. He doesn't know what to say, to make Aoi come back, to tell him he's sorry for the things he _hadn't_ done, and he realises he wouldn't be able to get the raven back at this rate, if Aoi held nothing but sadness and frustration towards him now. He needed to see Aoi in person, to hold him and tell him he was sorry, and... do all the things he should have done.  
  
He's dialling the rest of the band's numbers in a second, hastily searching for Aoi's whereabouts. The raven's _got_ to have told someone where he was going, or perhaps stayed over at one of their houses temporarily; but when Ruki freaks out over the phone at the mere mention of one of his guitarists gone missing, and when Kai freaks out doubly over the safety of Aoi, and _even_ Reita yelling at Uruha that he fucked up last night and he better get his ass off to get Aoi back as soon as possible, Uruha realises it's going to be tougher than he thinks. Aoi hadn't told anyone after all.  
  
And with Aoi's next message to him, Uruha feels like the hope the lone star had given him earlier on was withering, withering, slowly withering away.  
  
_You'll still live your life in the dark. It's just who you are._  
  
A  
  
~  
  
It wasn't that Aoi was trying to play hard to get; he just felt like he _needed_ to show Uruha just how much it hurt, he needed to tell Uruha how hurtful the blonde had been treating him. Aoi had loved the blond so much, and Uruha hadn't bothered, until the raven finally let go. He takes one last sip of his coffee, then gets up from his seat, tired and restless. He doesn't want to entertain the blond anymore; and he almost switches off his phone, until he sees Uruha's message coming in again, quicker than before.  
  
_Teach me._  
  
U  
  
~  
  
“Have you seen a raven haired man around here? He's just slightly shorter than me, and he was carrying a luggage, and...”  
  
Uruha's busy running about the nearby streets, trying to find someone who _might_ have seen Aoi, though he knows it's impossible, because there are so many people in the world, and how was it possible to find someone who had left so early in the morning running away from the one thing he'd loved all these while? He's breathless, running around, desperate and tired but not yet faltering. And all these while, thoughts ran through his mind; he _should_ have kissed Aoi as he fluttered his eyes open on the morning of his birthday. He _should_ have stayed by his side, holding him, showering him the love and attention Aoi had always given him. He shouldn't have had to pretend, he shouldn't have had to shower and act like he forgot, and he shouldn't have had to see that heartbreaking expression of Aoi's as he waited for a birthday wish from the blond.  
  
_All these while I'd been so lonely. And I can't live in the dark with you anymore, Uruha, when stars belong in the sky._  
  
A  
  
Uruha feels his heart deaden for a moment; then he takes in a deep breath, dumps his phone back into his pocket, and begins heading home.  
  
~  
  
Uruha never replied after that.  
  
Aoi ceases to breathe, staring to his phone for the umpteenth time, wondering why he was waiting for a message when he had already convinced himself that it was over. It was over, and Aoi isn't sure why he's still hoping for that change of heart, still hoping for a long awaited miracle to happen. He's making his way in circles, deep in thought, and by the time night falls, he's back to the same train station, the one he'd just left from this morning. Aoi's confused, and lost, and beaten, and brokenhearted. And he knows so many other people care for him, but he's still so insistent on staying in his own night sky, allowing the one thing he loved to break him down, slowly, but steadily. He doesn't even realise he's tearing once more, walking across the platform, dragging his luggage with him, trying to find some sort of place in this lonely world of his. He wants to lie next to Uruha in bed again, and hold him close, and pretend they were lovers, and pretend he could fit in to Uruha's own version of darkness. But he can't, now. He can't, so he takes a seat in the train station, watching everyone head home to their loved ones, observing the flickering night sky from his view in the open train station.  
  
“Isn't it pretty?”  
  
Aoi's startled by a voice beside him; then realises it was from an old, grey-haired woman, her countenance kind and gentle, her wrinkly face litted up in a smile, her hair held up high in a bun. She's draped in a large sweater, glancing to the younger man, nodding her head in approval.  
  
“I guess so.” Aoi's voice was still raspy from all the silent, controlled sobs of his; he tries hard to appreciate the night view before him, but he can't control his eyes as they roam over the number of stars, counting silently in his head. One star, two star, _three_ star... Had Uruha given up on him already? The raven can't breathe once more, feeling his heart break. No matter what Aoi did, Uruha wouldn't change. It was just who he was; just who he had been.  
  
“You know, I hadn't really noticed the stars before until today.” The old woman's voice was croaky. She held out a palm, pushing it to the raven. “A kind young man gave me this paper folded star, and told me to give it to any raven haired man I saw. He says he's trying to find his lover, and I laughed and told him I would do anything I could to help these younglings find their love. I was young once too, you know. I know how complicated you guys have it at your age.”  
  
A wave of shock sweeps over the raven instantly. “What?” Uruha did... _what_?  
  
“He said he made 1000 paper stars,” The woman laughed, shaking her head. “He went around the streets and the train station and gave one to anybody he saw. He said his lover loved counting the stars, and on the night they broke up, there hadn't been a star left in the sky, and he wanted that to change.”  
  
Oh my _god_. Aoi's cupping a hand over his mouth, recalling the very last message he'd sent to the blond. _I can't live in the dark with you anymore, Uruha_. And he feels his heart wrenching, wondering what the blond must have thought. _You'll still live your life in the dark, it's just who you are_. Maybe he had been too harsh; maybe he had been too angry, too tired to fight. But he had never thought Uruha would do this for him – the man who had left him alone, cold and brokenhearted on the morning of his birthday – doing all of these for him to get him back. To find him, to tell him he wasn't alone anymore. And he hadn't even expected Uruha to realise Aoi needed the stars to tell him he was fine, but Uruha did, and Uruha was looking for him.  
  
“You're the lover, aren't you?” She's smiling gently to the raven. “I told him I wanted a photo of you, since I frequent the train station a lot waiting for my husband to come back from work, and he showed me your picture. He said he's made some mistakes and he's sorry, and I'm not quite sure what he did to you, dear, but if he's not a man in love, he wouldn't have scoured the streets giving out these pretty little stars, hoping one of them would reach you. And when I saw you coming out of that train, _crying_ – I knew you had to be his lover. Because he had been crying as he talked about you, too.”  
  
Aoi doesn't know if the tears clouding his vision now are from sadness anymore, or from surprise and happiness. “He really did that?”  
  
“Will you take this paper star, dear?” The older woman unveils her palm, revealing a golden colored paper star lying on the middle of it, folded neatly and prettily, shining like the ones etched up high in the sky. Aoi stares to it in curiousity, smiling as he fingers it, then brings it nearer to his vision, admiring his lover's handiwork. He drops it back onto the woman's palm a second later, though, shaking his head as he got up from his seat hastily.  
  
“You can keep it,” Aoi feels his heart bursting with joy. “I'll go find my own star.”  
  
~  
  
Uruha gazes at his phone, wondering if he should send one more text to the raven, just to persaude him to come home. But he knows Aoi won't; he clearly was mad at him, and anything the blond said now would only aggravate it, and worsen the problem. He doesn't even know if the raven _knows_ what Uruha is doing now, or the amount of efforts Uruha has gone to try and get him back, but the blond knows as long as there are stars in the sky, there'll be hope, the exact same hope Aoi had been harbouring all these while, desperate for a miracle to happen. And it's ironic how Uruha's holding out on the exact same hope, when Aoi had wished for the blond to care for him for so long ago. Now Uruha's doing the exact same, hoping Aoi would come back, hoping it wasn't going to be too late.  
  
He's in the middle of the town center, where all the people are, and he's only half done giving out the number of paper stars he's kept in his bag, only half done trying to find his one and only star. The night lights are all lit up around the shops here and people keep passing him by; and it's so crowded, but he feels so alone, without the raven next to him; and he wonders if this was how Aoi had felt without Uruha yesterday, so alone, so empty. Uruha should have gotten used to this feeling so long ago, but the mere thought of Aoi leaving him forever scared him, and he never wanted that to happen, he never wanted the raven to ever leave him, or stop circling numbers into the skin of his palm.  
  
He's looking to the night sky up above, wondering if Aoi was looking at the exact same sky right now. And then maybe the million stars up above might tell the raven just how sorry he was, and tell him how much Uruha had wanted to hold Aoi close at night, too. And tell Aoi the many things he wanted to hear, the many things Uruha had always kept in.  
  
“Can I have a star?”  
  
“Sure.” Uruha isn't even looking, releasing a sigh as he digs into his bag once more, only briefly flickering his eyes over to the man before him; and having his heart stop as he does so. Since... _when_...? Uruha can't think nor breathe; the very person he'd been waiting for had finally arrived, had finally appeared to him as magical as a miracle. Aoi was right before him; the beautiful raven haired man he had fallen in love with, the one he'd let down over and over again, the only one he'd fallen in love with and the one he hadn't been able to love right. Aoi's here, and he's only given out 500 odd stars, but it looks like it was enough.  
  
Uruha's frozen, unmoving in his step, his eyes gazing towards the raven's pretty black eyes, his lips curved up in a soft, shy smile like he'd always been, his pink peachy cheeks dried with the tears Uruha knows he's responsible for. Aoi's standing right before him, in the middle of this crowd, in the midst of the noise and the buzz, right below the night sky. And there's a million stars tonight, and Aoi doesn't need to count any of them anymore. The blond can't resist a grin, and he takes a step forward, pulling the raven into a deep kiss, hearing the raven gasp as he wraps his arms firmly around Aoi's waist. He can taste the heartbreak, mixed with the shock, and the happiness, all against Aoi's lips, and he suddenly wonders how long it has been since he's kissed the raven like this, passionately, closely, tightly. He can smell Aoi's familiar cologne, the one Uruha always got for him, and he can feel the curve of Aoi's body fitting in against his, filling up spaces like they used to always do. Aoi's so perfect, and he had forgotten how to care, how to love, for someone as genuine and precious as this. And it's this thought that Uruha kisses harder, unwilling to let go, unwilling to ever let Aoi run from him again.  
  
Aoi flutters his eyes shut, cupping a hand against Uruha's cheek, feeling the blond's tongue twirl gently around his, kissing him a thousand apologies. And he doesn't know if Uruha knows this, but he's been counting the stars just for this very moment; just for Uruha to love him again, love him like _this_ and take care of him like he'd always been. Aoi draws apart from the kiss, beaming back into Uruha's gaze, and he feels the blond pull him back into a close embrace, his eyes falling to a shut as he murmured softly to the raven.  
  
“I'm sorry.”  
  
Aoi holds back his gratified tears. “It took you so long.”  
  
“My life is dark, and I needed light. And then I took yours and I burned you out; and I kept you trapped under my darkness, and I hadn't realised how painful it had been for you.” Uruha clutches the raven tighter to him. “And I saw the 0 you had carved into our bedframe, and then it broke me just thinking about how long you've been waiting. I can't lose you, Aoi. I really can't.”  
  
The raven haired man buries his head deeper into the blond's chest. “I thought you'd forgotten about me. That you... just didn't love me anymore. That I wasn't... good enough. And I got so scared, because I'd always been trying to be perfect and – ”  
  
“That's not true,” Uruha breathes, against Aoi's hair, cutting the raven off, allowing his fingers to run down the raven's locks. “Don't let my negligence result in you thinking you're any less than perfect.”  
  
“I just wanted you to love me the most,” Aoi confesses. “I just needed to know you loved me as much as I loved you. And then I got off the station and I saw that old lady and she told me you'd been making stars for me – and I couldn't believe it, I couldn't believe someone like you would ever do something like that for me – and then I started walking around, trying to find you, and I asked the people on the streets if there was a man giving out stars and they directed me to you –”  
  
The blond dips his head down, catching Aoi's breath in another soft kiss. “Will you promise me you won't leave me ever again?”  
  
Aoi's face lights up in a smile. “If you promise me you won't leave me alone again.”  
  
“I promise,” Uruha whispers, then closes his eyes once more, feeling Aoi's heart beat against his, pressing his lips gently against his raven lover.  
  
_0_...  
  
Aoi watches as the million stars shimmer and glimmer in the night sky above, and he wants to tell Uruha that the blond's dark sky is flickering alive with stars again, and the hope he'd been storing up all these while is coming alive, with the love miracle he'd always wished for.  
  
_1_.


End file.
